Maid for Nothing
by emmmm
Summary: A millionaire maid? That's not Bella. She just happens to inherit some stuff from her dead father. But what exactly is preventing her from being attracted to Senator Cullen who happens to stay at the hotel she's working at? -Maid in Manhattan with a twist-
1. Prologue

Hi. Just trying to start with a new story. Hope you like it!

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"Your father left you everything."

"Excuse me? What are you saying?" I bellowed over the phone.

"You _are_ Isabella Marie Swan, aren't you?" The gravelly voice on the other end questioned, and he sounded impatient and bored to even talk.

"Well, yes. But I don't even know my dad and I'm sure he wouldn't give me anything," I sat on the couch and sighed at the situation I'm currently in. This isn't possible. My dad doesn't even know me and now he left me something?

I never expected this phone call. Never in a million years. My dad left us while I was only a toddler, atleast that was what my mom told me. He was this big shot millionaire whose company was rising up and then he turned into a workaholic and often doesn't go home. Needless to say, my mom got pissed and felt lonely until she decided to just pack up and leave. Taking me with her, of course.

After twenty five years of being a ghost to me, his name suddenly pops up. In the middle of a crisis, more so. This just doesn't make sense, and it certainly isn't happening to me. It's too much to take in.

Why would he even do this? It's not like we had a relationship, other than we share the same blood.

Why now? Why break the ice now? Why would he enter my life at the time of his death? I had never even talked to him as father and daughter.

"Hello? Ms. Swan? Are you there?" My thoughts faded as I heard the person again.

"Uhm, yeah. Are you sure? I mean, when you say _everything_, what does that exactly entail?" Heck yeah I was curious as to what my long-lost daddy left me with.

"Of course. Precisely half a billion dollars and all his vacation houses across the world. If you want the number of those houses, they're ten mansions. I guess that's all, according to the will." He had the nerve to say, "that's all".

Holy crap. Why?

"I have found your bank account and transferred everything there. It's all yours now. All I need is your signature as proof that you've received your inheritance," he was still blabbering. I'm not even taking a breath right now as I was shocked at what he said.

Half a billion dollars? Ten mansions scattered all over the world? Was my dad the president for him to even have that kind of possession?

"You transferred what to my account?!" I finally exploded. Is that even legal? I'm sure as hell not. How dare he do that without my permission.

"I'm sorry. But that was what Mr. Swan requested, or demanded. He knew you were going to be stubborn about it," My dad. My father knew I was stubborn but he wasn't even there when I was growing up.

"T-this is a lot to take in. I need some time. I'll just... Yeah." I hung up the phone and stared at the beige ceiling of my apartment. The paint was obviously reaping and the light was flickering.

This damn building was falling apart and the landlady's still ignoring that fact. I've been apartment-hunting for almost a month now but it seems that the price of everything rose and I couldn't afford it. Not with cleaning hotel rooms for a job.


	2. Chapter 1

I hope you're okay with just this chapter for now. I haven't got enough time to finish it and thought of doing the chapters with just this number of words.

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I tried to forget what happened yesterday. Believe me, I did. But after rushing this morning going to the nearest atm machine and seeing my balance, I stumbled back. My god. My dad really left me money, almost five hundred million dollars, to be exact. Was he a mafia boss? I mean, no one can earn that much money in just a decade or two.

I wasn't really sure about meeting this lawyer of his. And I'm sure I'm not signing anything. I don't want this. I don't want the money. Yeah, a lot of people want them but it's not that. It's a feeling that you didn't do anything and still you have the kind of money. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve any of this. Every single thing that I've got right now, I've worked hard for. So this is a big deal for me, taking money that isn't really mine. I guess I'd just have to give it away.

"Good morning, Bella." I entered the grand hotel and greeted my manager, Angela Webber. Her hair in a neat bun at the back of her head and she was fixing her scarf in front of the mirror. The black pencil skirt she was wearing was knee-length and looked good on her figure. She smiled at the mirror as she greeted me.

"Goodmorning." I sounded sullen but who cares. I got my card and punched it in the machine before putting it back.

I greeted a few of my coworkers who were about to leave as I made my way through the locker room. I got in front of mine and opened it, taking out the pressed uniform I wear everyday.

This is me. I am a housekeeper at the Grand Plaza. Even I didn't know how I got I job like this since I had a Masteral degree in being an English Major. I graduated from Arizona and moved here a year later, thinking that it was easier to get a job here because this is New York for pete's sake. Taking my friends-since-birth Alice and Rosalie, we rented an apartment and became roommates for a while. But now, they live with their precious halves and that left me all alone. It's not like I'm looking for someone, though they think they are doing me a favor whenever they set me up on blind dates.

It's not that the blind dates are catastrophic or something, but when it comes to the point about jobs, they just run off. I guess they don't want to be in a relationship with a maid. And that hurts, it really does. So I just gave up on those dates. It's not that I hate my job, there's just nothing hiring at the time I came here and the pay is really satisfying for someone who cleans a room from eight 'til three in the afternoon.

Three years had passed and I'm still here, housekeeping hotel rooms where famous asses have sat at and laid at. I've sent almost all the publishing houses here what I've got and tried to apply at The Post. But no, they told me that I was under qualified for even their lowest job. So here I am, no change. Except for my boyfriend.

Ah, my ex-boyfriend, Michael Newton. That asshole. I wanna pound his face against the wall and kick his freaking balls until he begs me to stop, but I won't. I'll torture him until he can't even stand forever.

Such harsh words but he deserves them. When we first met, he was the sweetest guy I've ever met, and I thought that no one could even get sweeter than him. He was the perfect gentleman and took me out a lot of times and bought me stuff. Though he never pushed, I knew he wanted to take our relationship further as to having an intimate one. I never gave in, in case you were wondering. I think that's why he was cheating behind my back, and not only one woman but, five, maybe? How do I know? I saw him fucking them on his couch five times. And five times I forgave him.

I don't know why I put up with him for five times after that. I've been trying to give him a second chance, or in his case, a fifth chance but he certainly did not follow through.

I went home one day from work and found all my things gone. The apartment was bare with just the couch sitting there. At first I thought that I'd been robbed. Little did I know that the thief was actually him, I put together once he disappeared. His phone was disconnected and the landlady from his building said he moved out. The fucker. I wanted to find him then and beat the crap out of him.

To add to that, my bank account was empty. I found out after attempting to withdraw some money so that I could eat that night. I broke down when I finally got back to my bedroom. A few of my things were gone, the only ones left were my photos and clothes.

Alice and Rose helped me earn some money after blabbering about how I don't just take money without working for it. So Al gave me a waitressing job at her own catering business and I was Rose's personal assistant for about a month as she worked at a fashion magazine and needless to say, I got back up on my own in just six months. Juggling those three jobs weren't easy but it sure as hell worth it. I get to work with my friends twice a week and it felt like we were just hanging out. I really couldn't live without them.

Standing here, in front of my locker mirror, as I tie my hair up in a bun, I wonder how much longer am I going to be fixing up rooms and basically being a maid. That thought wove its way back to my dad's inheritance. I couldn't touch that money. I can't and I won't.

I smoothe my hair down and headed out the doors, dragging my cart with me. I was in charge of the the thirtieth floor today. Phew. Atleast not the penthouse suites, those places were a bitch to clean. There was an elevator for the housekeeping personnel, because they don't want us riding with the customers and stuff.

Upon arriving, I grabbed the clipboard that consists of the rooms I'm supposed to clean and started counting down the doors. Once I was in front of the first room of the day, I swiped the card and the light turned from red to green. I went inside, not expecting the hurricane of bottles of wine and clothing everywhere.

I gasped at the sight. This, this was a bigger bitch than the penthouse suites, everyone expected us to just clean and not whine about anything. Which is exactly what I'm supposed to do. I pulled a folded garbage bag out of my pocket and blew it up, picking up trash as I walked about. I ignored the clothing that were actually just skimpy bras and lacy panties strewn everywhere. Black dress pants and a coat that looked expensive were neatly folded on the arm of the couch. Atleast someone here is decent enough not to mess up.

"Who the fuck are you?" I spun around and was met with a tall woman wrapped around in a white sheet. Her hair was in a disarray so I could guess what actually happened here not too long ago. She was standing between the doors of the only bedroom in the room.

Her blazing eyes were rolling across me and I could feel the heat in her stare.

"You asked for housekeeping," I responded to her calmly because everyone knows not to clean a room without the permission of the customers. As soon as I replied, her eyes softened and she fingered her blonde hair.

"Oh. I remember. But would you please get out? Come back in like an hour or two." She waved her hand indicating that I was dismissed. I huffed silently at her actions. Does she think I'm a slave? No, just a maid. With that, I pulled up my bag with the trash and went out.

That was an uneventful encounter and the only one I came in contact with another human being until lunch. Once I got to the ground level, I put the trash in the garbage and threw the dirty bed sheets and pillow cases in the large hamper.

I hurried off to the lockers and replaced my uniform with a slick black skirt and button-down white polo. I tucked in the polo shirt and retrieved a black apron from the shelf of my locker. I tied it at the back, making sure it was tight so it won't fall off. I looked at myself at the mirror again, even though I truly hated it. It just reminds me of how I see myself as not worth it. I pulled the ponytail off and shook off my hair, knowing it would be curly after being tied up for five hours. After running my fingers through the strands, I pulled it back again and tied it in a ponytail, clipping up stray hairs and let my side bangs fall loose.

Looking satisfied, I clipped back my name plate and headed towards the kitchen to and started waiting tables.

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So, tell me if you're not fond of me updating just this short and I'll try my best to make it longer.


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